Saved by Murder
by TeamAlphaQ
Summary: You're just trying to get home, drunk. You didn't want to get into this trouble. However, someone came to help...or hurt? Reader insert, Ticci Toby. Rated T for language and implied mature themes.
1. Drunk

You're drunk and you know it. You were drunk seventeen shots ago, and yet you ignored that fact and just kept going. The bottom of every glass was a chance at relief from the memories that haunt you. You shouldn't be this torn up about that guy anyway. He was a dick, plain and simple, and yet here you were, drunk as an Englishman, all thanks to him. You stare at the lights that swim in your vision until that little voice inside your head yells, _Go home, [name]. You're drunk._

You stumble out of your seat at the bar and push through the doors to the outside. Everything is so dark and quiet that it shakes some of your drunken stupor away. You really have to pay attention to where you are going so you don't run into anybody. Not that there is anybody to run into. The sidewalk is void of people at this ungodly hour. Your head pounds. God, how much did you drink? The fact that you are unable to remember is probably not a good sign. Everything starts to spin, so you sit down on a conveniently placed bench and think about all the terrible choices you have made that led to this equally awful moment. You know that if you don't get up and go home you will fall asleep here. Sleeping now would be so stupid that even your alcohol-soaked brain rejects it immediately and pushes you up. You continue your stumble home until-

"Say a word sweetheart and you won't live to see the morning." A rough hand covers your mouth and you can't put enough thoughts together to do more than struggle weakly. You are thrown back into the alley your assailant came from. Sprawling across some putrid garbage, you can see that there are not one, but two men before you. They are unkempt and are both leering at you in a way that sends broken shivers up your spine.

"Take anything of value." the first man says to the other. "And when you're done, maybe we can have a little fun with her."

You know what that means. It isn't rocket science. You try to back up, but there just so happens to be a wall at your back. If you hadn't gotten so damn drunk, you could have probably escaped. As it is, you can't move fast enough to fight or flee, so that leaves the worst possible choice: being mugged and, you shudder at the thought, raped by these men.

They descend on you, ripping at your necklace and bracelets. With two tugs, they tear the diamond earrings from your ears, leaving your earlobes torn and bleeding but you are too numb to register the pain. They rifle through your pockets and find your wallet and cell phone. You know that's all you have of value and that can only mean… _Oh God no, please, no._

The bigger of the two men suddenly is behind you and has your hair in his grubby hands. He pulls back, which leaves your neck exposed. With his free hand, he pulls out a rusty knife and presses it to your Adam's apple, hard. "Do what you want. Make sure to leave some for me."

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging for this to just be a alcohol-induced dream that you are having passed out at the bar. No such luck. This is very real and definitely terrifying. You wait in terror, then-

 _THUNK._

The man before you falls forward and you cringe when you feel something metallic-smelling permeate the air and a heavy weight fall on you.

"What the- You there! Stay where you are! I _will_ kill her."

You dare to open your eyes and are met with the most horrific scene you have ever witnessed. The man that _was_ before you is slumped in your lap with an hatchet sticking out of his head. Blood pools on the ground around him and it drenches your clothes. You try to look around in order to see who committed this murder, and your eyes land on a silhouette of a thin man with a hatchet in one of his hands. It takes a minute to connect the two things, but eventually you realize that he must have thrown it at your attacker. The figure leaps down from the roof of the low building and stands on the top of the dumpster that sits against the wall.

"Stay back! I will kill her!" You feel the knife at your throat tremble and leave a bloody cut.

The killer before you laughs. "Come now. Let the lady go and you won't find your skull split in two." Your blood runs, if possible, even colder. This man is more dangerous that the one restraining you.

The man behind you immediately drops you and steps away. "Okay, man. Please leave me alone. I was just going."

"Drop the knife." the killer hisses.

You can hear the audible clang as it hits the dirty stone.

"Just kidding. I feel like killing you." The man leaps from his perch onto the other man with cat-like agility. You hear ribs break and terrible moaning come from your assailant. A happy chuckle escapes the murderer. "You should know better than to hurt people." he chides. You can see the irony in that statement, even in your current state. The killer begins to bash the back of the man's skull with the flat of his blade, all the while laughing. What seems like an eon later, the killer says sadly, "Aw, come on. We were having too much fun for you to just die on me. Oh well," He gets to his feet slowly and, to your horror, you see him twitch. "You're still here." He steps forward and yanks his other weapon out of the skull of the other man and slowly walks over to you.

You finally get some of your wits about you and plead with the killer, "Don't hurt me."

He just stands before you, twitching slightly. A passing car's lights give you a look at the killer's face. He has a scarf pulled over his mouth. The pattern on it almost resembles an insane smile. His eyes are covered by yellow reflective goggles that effectively cover the rest of his face. What isn't covered is deathly pale and it leaves an afterimage on your retinas.

"Who-who are you?" you whisper in awe-inspired terror.

"Well, I suppose most people call me Ticci Toby. See you around, [name]." He is gone as soon as he had come.

You finally stumble to your feet and stare after him before scrambling at the corpses for your phone to dial 911.

Only once you sober up you realize that Ticci Toby had known your name even though you had never told him.


	2. The Ex

**A/N: ...And then, from the depths of her internet ban, Q arose and**

 **Rewrote this old thing?**

 **Trust me, I have my reasons for this rewrite. Think of it as a placeholder for any really good updates.**

 **As always, enjoy!**

The new passengers boarding the crowded bus jostle you as they pass. Not one of them apologizes for their rudeness but you don't blame them in the slightest. You wouldn't have at this point either. Your day has just been too long and grueling to care about the comfort of others.

The most you can say about your job is it's respectable. Nevertheless you hated every moment you had to spend in that cramped messy cubicle. There you were just another number forced to slog through whatever papers were slammed on your desk.

You think back to your dismal interactions with you coworkers and the constant harassment you receive from your boss with distaste. Even though everyone there is working the same job and getting paid the same minimal salary you are, they distain any contact with you. Their patronizing glances incessantly beat your skin numb. You're surprised you aren't dented yet.

Your boss is worse than your peers. He's constantly making off color remarks that no one else seems to notice. The other women you work with don't seem to get toyed with, but then, they exude confidence, and you don't, they dress nicely and you, frankly, have given up. Your entire attitude is one of not caring about what people think. It's a shell you don't feel like dropping any time soon.

The grating screeches of the old bus's brakes jerk you from your wallow of self-pity. With a glazed dead look in your eyes, you rise from your seat and walk to the doors. As you reach the front you catch the eye of the bus driver. He squints at you for a moment before asking, "Are you that girl from the news, the one who was nearly murdered?"

You shake your head quickly and hurry off the bus. Of course, you are _that girl from the news_ but you aren't going to tell _him_ that. You don't want more questions.

There had been a lengthy news report on the murders you had witnessed. Most of it had been about Ticci Toby and his previous killings, but there had been a short segment of the police talking to you. You had never consented to let any mention of your name become entangled with the murders but the media are a sneaky bunch.

With your heels dragging, you walk to your house. The corner drug dealer looks up at you and waves a bag of some unidentifiable drug at you while mumbling something in Spanish. You look down at the proffered drugs and shake your head as you back away slowly. Once finished establishing a safe distance between you and the drugs, you nervously turn your back to him and continue your dismal crawl home.

The angry shouts of domestic violence reach your ears as you cross the street. Something is thrown from an upper story window. As it crashes to the ground below you identify it as a lamp. Several homeless people scurry over to see if it's useful. After deeming it useless they scatter back to their respective alleyways.

As you pass the 'vacant' house next to yours, you see a small thin child duck out from under the brambles obscuring the front door and scamper away out of sight. Someone from inside the house hollers some foul language after him.

All in all, your entire neighborhood looks bedraggled and unkempt. The house you live in is no different. Run down and weathered with peeling paint and missing shutters, the entire thing looks to be on its last legs. You regard it with tired resignation before walking up the crumbling front steps and unlocking your worn door.

When you step inside you're sorely tempted to just collapse to the floor and fall asleep there but sound reason stops you. Your neighbors aren't the type of people to see someone asleep out in the open and say 'Aww, poor thing', they're more likely to take advantage of their helplessness. Easy prey is easy after all.

Instead, you lock the door and wander away from it in a confused manner. Briefly you contemplate going to the kitchen and searching through your pantry for some food but the lure of your bed overwhelms your hunger.

With shuffling steps, you ascend your staircase. The rusted light fixture at the top wavers and flickers weakly. Sighing, you push your bedroom door open and, with slow, monotonous movements, ready yourself for bed. You collapse to your bed in relief. Almost at once your mind is caught in the currents of sleep.

You surface in a nightmare. You're back in that dark alley again. The entire area is coated in a fine red mist. You feel a slick viscous substance beneath your palms. Horror courses through you as you realize it's blood staining the pavers.

Before you, lay the bodies of the men that had attacked you. They both bleed profusely from gaping, ragged chest wounds but they aren't dead yet. Instead they're staring at you, irises milky white with red pupils. You scramble away from them only to collapse to the ground. Towering over the mess of gore is a dark ominous figure you know is Ticci Toby. He gives a single shout of insane laughter before slowly stalking over to where you lie and offers his hand for you to take. A single flash of light illuminates the splattered blood streaking his clothes.

When you shrink back in fear from the terrifying apparition he hisses, "Maybe I should kill you after all." He raises his hatchet, stained in crimson, preparing to bring it down and end your life. "Goodbye [name]."

You yank your brain from the nightmare in fear. With labored breathing you lie in bed, trying to calm your mind. Unfortunately it doesn't work but then, it never does.

You lay in bed sleeplessly. You've had that nightmare many times before. It was about the murders again. Without fail, it bombards you with thoughts of the one who committed the gruesome acts. Ticci Toby.

After everything had calmed down that fateful night and you had sobered up, you went on your old clunky laptop and googled him. The kills you had witnessed were not his first. Apparently he had had a long string of them in this town alone. No one could turn up anything about him that was even mildly helpful. All images of him were grainy security camera shots that didn't show much. You also noted that there were no recorded incidents of him leaving any survivors. You had wanted to believe that made you special, after all, hadn't he said he would 'see you around'? But, if the past few weeks were any indication, this was not actually the case.

You roll over and press your face into the pillow with a groan. You're an idiot for ever hoping that he would actually show up. Besides, it's probably better this way. Do you really want a murderer dropping in for afternoon tea and a nice little chat?

Something creaks below you. Your blood runs cold and you pull your blankets up to your chin, as if they can protect you from the nightly terrors. It's probably the raccoon that's taken up residence under your porch. You're just psyching yourself out.

 _Crash!_ You bolt upright in bed. Not a harmless furry animal then. You take mental bets on which it could be. Due to your unsavory local it is probably a thief. Yet some little bit of you is hoping that it's Toby, making good on his promise at last.

You rise from bed as silently as you can. After wrapping yourself in a robe, you search for a weapon and find nothing. You settle on a heavy book. The person downstairs might have a gun, but you will knock them out with the power of knowledge, if you can. A small part of you remains aware that this situation is laughably terrible. You're armed with a book for goodness sakes! But then, hadn't Cardinal Richelieu said that the pen was mightier than the sword?

Clearly Richelieu had never lived on _this_ side of the train tracks…

Quietly you sneak down the stairs, all the while wondering, _why the hell does this always happen to me?_ The first thing that meets you at the bottom of the stairs is blinding light. Whoever it is obviously doesn't care about secrecy. You creep to where you heard the crash come from: the kitchen. Inside you see what made the noise and the person who broke the plate. "Frank? What the _hell_ are you doing here?" you yell in annoyed confusion.

Your 'ex', Frank, spreads his arms out. You were never _really_ dating him. You had just deluded yourself into believing you were special. "Aw come on, [name], don't be like that, love."

You feel unbelievably angry that he has the nerve to use your pet name after everything he did. "How did you get in?"

To your horror, he holds up a key to your back door. "Come on, love. Are you still upset with me?"

"You were the one who was using me as a convenient booty call. How do you think it felt?" You would have tried to grab the keys from him but you still are holding _The Civil War and Reconstruction_ in your hands. Frank notices.

"Why don't you put that book down, [name], and we can just put all that history behind us." Frank slowly advances on you, reaching out to touch you.

You recoil from his hands. "No! Get out of my house, asshole."

"But I thought you loved me, [name]!" Frank looks confused.

"And I thought I told you last time that I never wanted to see you again! I was nearly raped and killed, but did _you_ ever call? No! You only love me when you're too drunk to care about whom you're spending your nights with." You look in his eyes and see that you were right. He has been drinking again. You are proud to say that you have been sober since that fateful night.

"That's not true, love. You've missed me, admit it. _I_ will. I have really missed you and I was really worried about you after seeing the murders on the news." Frank moves closer to you again.

"Just leave my house, Frank. I don't want to hear that bull." You mutter in exhausted resignation. It would be so easy to just let Frank stay, much quicker and less strenuous…

You hear the door behind Frank open and instant terror wraps around your heart because you know exactly who it is. Ticci Toby crosses the distance between your open back door and Frank in a second. Before you can scream he grabs Frank's collar and, in one powerful movement, spins him and deftly pushes him to the ground. Toby kneels on Frank's chest, slowly pressing the breath from his lungs.

Frank's face contorts with the agony of realization. "You! I know you; you're that guy from the news!"

Toby chuckles softly and leans forward. The familiar crack of breaking ribs reminds you of the last time you had seen Ticci Toby. Your fear comes to a boil as you see that this has every opportunity of turning out the same way. "Yes, I am. Now it's my turn, why are you here?" Toby's face is inches from Frank's.

Frank blubbers and wheezes but no comprehensible words push past his lips.

Toby twitches as he asks in a deadly whisper, "Are you bothering [name]? That just won't do." Toby pulls one of his hatchets from his belt and, with dawning horror, you become aware of what's about to happen.

"Don't kill him!" you plead. You know exactly how awful he was, but you don't hate him enough to wish death upon him. Toby looks up at you slowly. His eye tics and he nods slowly, then looks back at Frank.

"Well now, it looks like [name] wants you to live. She has a softer heart than I do." Ticci gets up dragging Frank with him by his shirt. Holding the bigger man above him, Ticci whispers, "Now this is only going to go one way: _my_ way. First, apologize to [name]."

Frank looks to me, eyes wide with fear. "I-I'm sorry."

"There, was that so hard?" Ticci Toby says pleasantly as the muscles in his neck twitch. "Now, promise to me that you're never going to ever come near her again."

"I promise never to come near [name] again." Frank blubbers. "Will you please put me down now?" he begs. You watch half in fear and half in horrible satisfaction. For some reason, it's extremely gratifying to see the man that caused you so much pain reduced to tears by someone half his size.

"One more thing." Toby snatches your spare keys from Frank's limp hand and shoves them into his pocket. "There, all done! Now in a second I'm going to release you and then you get 'til the count of three before I ignore [name's] wishes and kill you." Toby drops Frank. "One,"

Frank scrambles to his feet.

"Two,"

Frank throws himself at the door.

"Three."

The door slams behind him.

"This is much better! We can't have a polite conversation with the ex standing around." Toby puts his hatchet back in the empty spot on his belt.

You are thoroughly shaken and it takes a moment to get your thoughts together. There was no way that Ticci Toby could have known that Frank was here. That could only mean… _Oh god, a mass murder was coming to break into my house in the middle of the night._ The knowledge makes you weak in the knees and you feel yourself falling.

With exquisite grace Toby reaches out and catches you. "Don't go collapsing on me [name], I just saved your ass. Don't I get any gratitude?" He tilts his head to the side and looks, for all the world, like a puppy dog, albeit a murderous one.

You steady your breathing and attempt to get your feet back under you. "Thank you, Toby. You seem to rescue me a lot."

"No problem, [name], it was my pleasure." He taps his leg spasmodically. "To answer your unasked question, yes, I was coming to visit you. Can you really fault me for making good on my word?"

You really want to get upset at him for this moonlight visit but you're too torn between terror and horrible curiosity to tell him that. "No." you mumble. Now is not the time to be pissing off any killers.

"Then where's the harm?" Toby asks softly. His whisper has a dangerous edge to it that excites you. You train your eyes on the floor, hoping to hide the blush creeping into your cheeks.

Sirens bring your head up sharply. Toby just sighs. "Sounds like your ex called the police. What a shame." Toby pulls his scarf down and leans in quickly. The kiss he leaves on your cheek burns. "We'll meet again soon in less dire circumstances, [name]." He pulls his scarf up and is gone.

The door slams for the second time that night.

You don't move. The police burst through the door moments later and you collapse to the ground. The book you were holding makes a loud slap on the tile floor as falls beside you.

"Where is the killer, ma'am?" the police officer kneeling before you asks kindly. His accent is decidedly Canadian.

"He just left." you say quietly.

A looming shadow falls over you. Looking up, you find another, scarier and decidedly less Canadian cop standing over you. "My name is Sergeant Graves. We are very curious about your relationship with the killer known as Ticci Toby."

You only nod, afraid to say anything and give yourself away.

The Canadian furrows his brow. "Be kinder to the poor girl eh! She's just had a terrible fright."

Sergeant Graves only narrows his eyes. "We shall set up a time for you to come down to the station and give a detailed report. Is there anything of the utmost importance you would like to bring to my attention?"

Slowly you shake your head. "No sir." A thought drifts across your mind as Graves turns around. _Toby took Frank's old set of my house keys…_

That should probably worry you but you can't see the harm in it. To be honest, you like the idea of Toby coming back.

Whether you're ready or not, your life is going to get very interesting.

 **A/N: I have been having many of the good ideas recently and soon I shall start a new project.**

 **Overly ambitious much?**


	3. The Date

**A/N: I just want to say thanks to all the people who read this and gave me encouragement. It means a lot! Enjoy this last chapter! Also, I am looking for your suggestions for future fanfics. Please PM me or leave a review! -Q**

You are having a good day. Your first good day in a while. The police are finally leaving you alone and it has finally stopped raining, plus it's Friday. Also, you haven't had anything terrifying happen to you for the whole week. This is your chance to relax. You deserve to. You make your way upstairs so you can watch Netflix for the rest of the weekend. As you reach the top of the stairs, you hear your doorbell ring. You groan loudly, then check to make sure you are presentable. You walk back down the stairs and freeze at the sight of Toby leaning against the far wall, right next to the open front door.

"You know, I was just thinking about how something weird hasn't happened to me for a while." you mutter. Nevertheless, you are happy to see Ticci Toby. You haven't been able to stop thinking about him after that little kiss. It was seriously messing with your emotions!

"You aren't happy to see me?" Toby smiles and you realize what was different about his appearance. He is wearing casual clothes that are devoid of dried blood. He also isn't wearing those reflective goggles or his scarf. The change is nice.

"Usually when you show up, something bad is happening." you say sourly.

"Well [name], this is your lucky day! I promise not to kill anyone today. See, I don't even have any weapons!" Ticci Toby pushes off the wall and saunters over to where you stand.

"Okay Toby, I'll ask." you roll your eyes and ask, "Why are you dressed up like this?"

"I thought you would never ask!" he twitches a bit and says, "I have come to make amends for my rudeness on previous occasions and ask you out on a proper date!" he raises his eyebrows with a widening smile. "Will you accept?"

You blush a bit, then scold yourself for acting like that. "I'm not dressed for a date." you say awkwardly.

Toby laughs. "That doesn't matter, [name]. Am I all dressed up?"

"Well, not precisely, but it _is_ a big improvement over your usual apparel, seeing as what you typically wear is covered in blood."

"Point taken." he laughs again. "So will you?"

"Yes." you say quietly.

Minutes later, you are sitting in Ticci Toby's car and wondering why you aren't calling the police. _Because Toby isn't going to hurt you._ the little voice in your head reminds you. _He likes you._ And for all your apprehension about that killer side of him, you like him too. _God help me, I'm in love with a criminal_.

"What's the matter, [name]?" Toby gives you one of those devilish grins that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. "Are you scared of me?"

"No." you reply with a little more ferocity than you feel. "Even if I was, I would be completely within my rights to be so."

"Calm down. I promise not to kill you." you aren't sure if he's being funny or not.

As the car starts, you ask, "How did a serial killer get their hands on a car?" Then you think about that question and add hurriedly, "Do I even want to know?"

"No, probably not." Toby admits. "You're on edge enough as it is." You look straight ahead and try to calm your heart. _This car is stolen. What am I doing with my life?_

Eventually you ask, "Where are you taking me?"

Toby smiles and twitches a bit. "My favorite place in the world."

"Waffle House?" You stare up at the building dubiously.

"What? I _like_ waffles!" Toby says innocently. "They have a calming effect on me." he grins. "Mostly because I can make them without killing anybody or starting a fire."

Once inside, you realize that the atmosphere, at least, is relaxing. By the time you have been seated, you are actually enjoying yourself. Frank's idea of a date had been getting hammered at a bar. This might not be a five star restaurant, but to you, it's wonderful. You look through the menu and choose at random, sure that if it's breakfast food, you really can't go wrong.

"So you having fun now, [name]?" Ticci Toby could not have looked more happy and at ease. For some reason, that makes you happier as well.

"I guess." you blush, then laugh. "I've never been on a date before!"

"There's a first time for everything." Toby is momentarily distracted by the waiter coming up to take your orders. When she leaves, you notice some people sitting down in a booth near your table. You don't pay them much heed until you see Toby look at them and flinch.

"What's wrong?" you ask worriedly.

"Nothing. Just a b-bad habit." you pick up on the stutter immediately, but decide not to pry. If you asked too many questions, he might get even more jumpy. Besides, you reason, Toby would tell you if there was imminent danger.

The food comes out shortly and you start to eat. You don't usually eat breakfast food for supper because your mom drilled it into your head that it wasn't normal, so this is a nice change. You look over at Toby and are relieved to see him acting calm again.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Toby asks, "How has everything been with you, [name]?"

You raise your eyebrows slightly. "Other than constant phone calls from the police and from my sister asking about the 'break in'," you make air quotes around the word. "My life has been pretty good. How about you?"

Toby looks over at that booth again and says, "I d-don't think what I do in my spare time should be t-talked about in a restaurant." You feel more nervous energy come from him. You see one of the people from the booth look over to him. Toby quickly fixes his gaze on his plate.

"True enough." you mutter. _Who_ are _those people? Why is Toby so nervous?_ You catch another one of the men at the booth staring at Ticci Toby and whispering to his companions.

"H-has Frank left you alone?" Toby tries to act casual, but twitches violently and you see through it immediately.

"Yes." You try to eat some more of your delicious waffles, but they taste like cardboard.

In the midst of the oppressive silence, you hear one of the men whisper loudly, "Yes, I'm _sure_ it's him!"

"Stay calm, [name] we might have trouble." Toby whispers to you from the corner of his mouth. "I should be able to handle it."

The men rise to their feet as one and walk deliberately over to your table. "Excuse me sir, is your name Toby?" You can see that these men are cops at once. Suddenly Toby's nerves make sense.

"It is." Toby answers with a visible twitch in his fingers, almost as if he was reaching for a weapon he didn't have. "Is that a crime?"

The policeman's mouth set into a hard line. "I'm very sorry, but I need you to come with us."

Ticci Toby bit his lip and stared at the men with defiance. "I don't think I want to." You feel like your heart is trying to escape your mouth. _No, you idiot! Damn it, why did this have to happen?_

"I don't think you have a choice, sir." The muscles in the cop's neck tic.

Toby shoots you a look that says, _Trust me?_ You swallow and give an imperceptible nod. Toby stretches out a bit in his chair and you can tell he is in his element now. "Oh, but I do." He flicks his wrists out and suddenly he is holding wicked-looking knives. In a single breath, Ticci Toby is behind you and has one of those wicked blades at your neck. It touches the scar someone else's knife left there.

"Put your hands above your head!" the lead cop yells. Two of the others with him draw guns.

"Put those down. You might hurt someone." You feel Toby's heart beating at your back and hear the breath of a laugh. He enjoys this, you realize.

"Stay calm, miss." one of the unarmed cops says kindly. Just to play the part, you whimper a bit. The other cops move towards you slowly.

"Just a bit closer." Toby mutters. The blade he holds at your neck twitches and digs into your throat. Blood drips down and stains your shirt.

One of the cops takes a big step forward and fires. You scream as you see it graze Toby's arm. To your shock, he laughs maniacally and knifes the man in the heart, dragging the knife down until it hits his navel. When he yanks the knife out, the man falls to the ground, dead.

Toby replaces his knife with an arm around your throat and drags you away. "Sorry to go so soon. It was very nice knowing you!" He pulls you out the door and to the car. He throws the door open and pushes you in before throwing himself over the hood and into the driver's side. Tires skid as he pulls away and gets the hell out of there.

The moment the Waffle House disappears from the rear view mirrors, Toby sighs sadly. "I'm so sorry, [name]. I really tried to take you on a nice date, and n-now it's all ruined."

You stare at him with your mouth slightly open. _How can he think about something like that when we both just about died?_ "You _do_ realize you're bleeding?"

"I am?" He looks at his arm and shrugs. "Oh well, it's not like I can feel it."

"How can you not feel that?" you yell incredulously. "You were _shot_!"

"I lost my ability to feel pain a long time ago, [name]." he smiles sadly.

You are silent, sensing that the subject is a sore on. "The police are after us." Yes, it was obvious, but you feel the need to remind Toby of his imminent doom.

"Yeah, I know." he looks so tired.

"How long have you been on the run, Toby?" you ask gently.

"Too long." he touches your shoulder lightly. "Thankfully, that means this isn't my first car chase."

You grin despite the grim circumstances. "You really do know how to show a girl a good time."

He laughs loudly. "That's one way of putting it."

You watch the scenery rush by as Toby breaks every speed limit known to this side of the world. "Where are we going?" you ask calmly. For some reason, you aren't a bit worried about the answer.

"To somewhere safe. After that, I'm going to have to leave you so they don't put you under investigation too. Also my hatchets are there and I have a feeling I'm going to need them." The sirens that had been in the distance get closer.

"Toby, what are you planning?" you have a bad feeling that you already know.

"I'm thinking a case of mass murder, but first," he grabs a length of cloth from his pocket that looks like it was used to clean up blood at some point. "I need you blindfolded, for added effect."

You nod and help him tie the cloth over your eyes. "If you kill me, Toby, I swear I will murder you."

Toby snorts. "Sorry, [name], but if you die you can't kill me. Don't worry though, the only people dying tonight are a whole heck of a lot of cops."

You don't know what's going on until you feel the car stop and Toby gently pull you out of your seat. He rushes you into a building and up several flight of stairs. You trip a few times, but he catches you.

"Here we are, [name]. Let's hope I don't die."

You both wait in quiet anticipation until you hear a door get kicked in, and then you start to scream. You would rather not have to do this at all, but if you were going to be a proper victim, you had to be loud and scared.

"Oh officers, I'm upstairs!" Toby yells with a cackle.

The pounding of feet can't drown out your heartbeat that thunders in your ears. "Help!" you scream. "Help me!" The door burst open.

All you hear is the sound of terror. You have no way of telling if Ticci Toby is okay or even if _you_ are okay. You are going numb from the fear that consumes your mind.

The next thing you know, everything is silent but for Toby's heavy breathing and insane laughter. You feel him lift the blindfold from your face but you keep your eyes closed. You don't want to see the carnage he has caused.

"I'm sorry that our date had to end like this." He sound so heartbroken that you open your eyes.

The figure of Toby before you blocks out the rest of the room. "This was the best date ever, Toby." You throw your arms around him and kiss him.

He gasps and falls back in surprise but doesn't break the kiss for a while longer. When you finally lean back and prop yourself up so you can see his face he asks, "You don't mind that I just killed about twenty-five people?"

"I do," you say quietly. "But I think I'm just over it by now."

The sound of a helicopter and wailing sirens break the bliss. "That's my cue, [name]." Toby gets up and helps you to your feet. "Will I see you again?"

You grin. "Yes. But maybe next time we could just eat at my place so you don't kill any more people." You pull the blindfold back on and arrange yourself on the floor so it looks like you hadn't moved.

"That sounds great, [name]." You hear the sound of a door slamming and Toby is gone again. You don't mind this time. You have had quite enough excitement for one month.

Someone bursts into the room and yells, "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah. If you're wondering, he just left." As people rush in, search the room, identify bodies, and tend to you, you realize with a smile just how delightfully abnormal your life has become. Perhaps you are losing your mind…

 **A/N: I lied, there might be an epilogue. This story deserves one.**


	4. Epilogue

You sit next to Toby in a comfortable silence, almost asleep. These last two weeks as Toby's girlfriend have been the best of your life. You can ignore all the rest of your life when he's around. You do have a lot that's stressing you out. The police are convinced that you played a part in the deaths of the cops. The trouble is, even though you were not directly responsible for their deaths, you never did anything to help them when they were getting brutally killed and you definitely aren't doing anything for them now. Strangely, you couldn't care less.

The lull in the conversation breaks as Toby sighs happily. "You can really cook, [name]." He grins, then you see the corners of his mouth turn down slightly as if remembering something sad, and he twitches.

"What is it, Toby?" you ask worriedly.

"I don't want to tell you this, but…" he trails off, then rakes his fingers through his hair. "I can't stay in this town much longer. The police are going to find me any day now and I can't afford to get caught because I might not be so lucky next time."

You feel your heart sink sadly. You knew it couldn't possibly last, but you hadn't wanted to think about it. "Where are you going next? Will I ever see you again?"

Ticci bites his lip and admits quietly, "I don't know where I'm going anymore. For the first time in my life, I don't want to leave." He hugs you tightly and whispers, "If I could, [name], I would take you with me, but I can't ask you to leave everything for me."

"Why not?" The idea hits you right between the eyes and it already has a hold of your mind.

"What?" Toby asks in confusion.

"Why can't I come with you?" you shrug and laugh bitterly. "It's not like I have a life here anyway."

Toby grins and laughs ruefully. "Good one."

"No." You shake your head, eyes wide. "I'm serious, Toby."

He cocks his head to the side and studies you critically. "If you run away with me, you would _constantly_ be on the run from the police."

"I might as well already be on the run from them. They suspect I helped you with the murder." Your voice sounds reasonable, but you know you must be insane for even thinking this was going to work. _Why am I jumping to the most extreme option first?_ The answer is simple. You have already tried living normally and you hate it. This is fun, and you are already addicted.

Toby's foot beats erratically against the floor. "[name], I would love to take you along, but only someone crazy would put you in so much danger."

You grin. "That's okay then, because when have you _ever_ been sane?"

"Fine." he twitches and laughs. "You win, [name]. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Trust me, you won't regret this."

 _Two days later_

You stare at your house one last time. You are glad that you are finally leaving the awful place. Ticci Toby waits for you by the newest stolen car. His hatchets gleam in the setting sun.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, [name]?"

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life." you reply with a smile.

"Then get in." Toby says. You both get into the car, and you spare a moment to kiss him before the car pulls out from the curb.

Driving away with the sun at your back, you look to your new future with no small amount of excitement. A new chapter of your life had opened. It's one with Toby in it, and undoubtedly no small amount of murder. But hey, who ever said murder wasn't fun?

 _I've lost my mind. What fun!_

 **A/N: Thanks for reading this fanfic! I hope you enjoyed it. :)**


	5. ANNOUNCEMENT!

**A/N: Hey everybody, I have finished the first chapter of the sequel to Saved By Murder and posted it.**

 **For now the title is** ** _Killjoy._** **That might change later depending on the direction the story takes.**

 **Thanks to** _Superkassu_ **for her support of this story. It means a lot to me!**

 **Enjoy the sequel!**

P.S. The credit of beta goes to the Slenderman of my life. Alpha is currently slammed with work and had no time to beta this.


	6. Rewrite she wrote!

**A/N: Ah yes… The rewrite. Why, you ask, are you doing this? This story was fine as it was! You're waisting valuable time you could have spent finishing that EJxBen story or A Killer's love or-**

 **Hushh…..**

 **While you may be right my dearest readers, You are also very wrong. I had the privilege of talking to someone** ** _much_** **better than I at writing and they pointed out a few plot holes in Saved by murder. I say a few, their exact words were, "This story is good but has more holes in it than swiss cheese after a mouse has been at it."**

 **So I wrote and rewrote until it was as good as it was going to get.**

 **The third chapter should follow suit.**

 **I hope that this oppressive internet restriction is lifted sooner rather than later but if it is not, I shall continue with all of my current fanfictions and more. Hopefully you shall hear from me again soon.**

 **Goodbye!**

 **-Q**

 **And no, I haven't forgotten about Ben and EJ. It's just… time and opportunity…. aren't allowing me much room...**


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